Wow. You readers are curious about this clown thing! I’ll indulge. Next stop, dissapointment!
The ugly truth of the matter is that in 1988, I was in college, and the Ringling Brothers, Barnum & Bailey Circus was in town. Me and my sorority sisters were up for a laugh so we drank a bunch of wine coolers and we hit The Big Top. I sensed the attraction from the moment we made eye contact. He was the sad but sprightly clown atop “King Tusk”, the biggest elephant in the ring. His over-sized teardrop is what initially attracted me to him, but then I glanced down and saw the size of his shoes. Oh, HONEY.
STOP RIGHT THERE THIS IS RIDICULOUS.
I suppose I shot myself in the foot a little here. Why lead with such a great premise, only to deliver a fairly disappointing finale? Well, ya’ll deserve the story. Here goes.
The truth of the matter is I met Scott at a bar in downtown Knoxville. I was a student at the University of Tennessee and pretty much the only virgin on campus, but of course I kept that knowledge on the down-low. I was truly and sincerely embarrassed about my virgin status, which of course seems so silly now. All of my sexually active girlfriends seemed very worldly and experienced and I was tired of feeling inferior and childlike. I felt like there was an exclusive club out there that I didn’t belong to. Heck, most of my friends lost their virginity in high school, so I really felt behind by my sophomore year of college.
Okay. I hear your minds getting blown right now. No, John was my first LOVE, but not my FIRST. And you know what? I’m proud of that.
After Johnny and I had broken up or “faded away” as I like to say, I met Scott. He was very funny and a really good guy. He had attended the Dick Van Dyke Clown College in Sarasota, Florida and really was a Ringling Bros. Barnum & Bailey Circus clown. I shit you not. He really did ride “King Tusk” in the Circus, and I never forgot that. He was fun to date, even if it was for only a month or two. He could hurl himself down the stairs of my dorm, and spring up…unhurt! He could do a back flip on a dime, and often would. He would *smash* himself in the face attempting to open a door and fake a big fall, to everyone’s amusement. He had a wonderful sense of humor and a gentle spirit. That’s about all I remember. LIKE, REALLY I’M NOT KIDDING.
I remember we had been out drinking and he was wearing a railroad conductor hat. *shudder* He had a little pouch around his neck that contained his crystal that he always carried with him. I know, did you just throw up in your mouth a little bit? IT WAS THE EIGHTIES PEOPLE. I had a crystal hanging off of my desk lamp. Ugh.
Anyway, we came back to my dorm room and I pretended to know what I was doing. I was frozen and terrified and just wanted to get things over with and not die a virgin. Seriously, I remember that being my thought. I knew that I didn’t love Scott, but I knew that he was a good guy and that he wouldn’t hurt me, and at my advanced age (almost 21!) that was enough.
So, Scott and I had *sex* for about 1.5 minutes. I think we were both mortified. I don’t think I told him I was a virgin, but I’m sure that became horribly obvious in those few minutes. I remember laying there and wondering if it was over or not. Awesome.
Afterwards, I felt a vast sense of relief. I had finally done *IT*! I felt victorious as something so major was finally crossed off of my list. Sad, no? Really, I think I was just glad I had survived.
The next day my roomate Teen found the condom wrapper ( see? we were smart even then!) in our bathroom trashcan and asked me about it. I finally admitted to her that up until the night before, I was indeed a virgin. She told me my secret was safe with her.
IT WAS NOT.
The next day I got off the elevator into the dormitory floor and there were a bunch of girls sitting around smoking, drinking diet coke, and watching Oprah.
Their heads turned around, and they saw me exit the elevator.
I said “Hey guys!!”
They started humming this.
Teen could never keep a secret.